


The Last Night of Young Frank's Life

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Sexual Experimentation, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank is drunk, a lot of things confuse him. Thankfully the Ways are there to<s> confuse him more</s> help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night of Young Frank's Life

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this picture](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrnhqxubd51qeyw54o1_500.jpg)

“I think we should eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow I shall die.”

“You’re not gonna die. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” 

Frank snorts. From Gerard that’s really the boa calling the lip gloss pink.

“He might die.”

“What?” He is allowed to whine about tomorrow’s operation. Gerard and Mikey’s job is to, like, support him and shit. 

“Well, anesthesia isn’t the safest thing in the world. You haven’t been under before, who know how your body will react?” Mikey doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone while delivering his death sentence.

“Thanks.”

“Always here to help.”

“Let’s start this right. Five swigs for everyone.” Frank knows by his fifth he’s going to be gagging. But he hasn’t eaten since lunch, so hopefully there won’t be much to puke up as the night progresses. His hospital mandated fast for fluids will have to start a bit late.

*

“It’s just I’m gonna die and there’s still so much I don’t understand about the world.” Gerard’s too drunk to passionately deny his inevitable death, Mikey’s too drunk to mock him, so Frank continues uninterrupted. “Like on tv. Why does it always show people wearing shoes in their bedrooms? No one would ever do that, think about the snow and the dog crap. Or who was the first person to think ‘you know what language needs? To be tied together’ and they started handwriting instead of printing? Or, like, I don’t know why everyone calls me a fag. A, that’s not a diss. B, I don’t even know if I like dick. I’m not exactly brimming with dick experience. Dicksperience?” 

“Grab mine.” 

Frank pulls himself up into sitting, trying to see if Mikey said what he thought he said. Like there will be comic book text hovering over his head or something. “What?"

“If you don't know if you like it, you should grab mine and figure it out.”

He has to pause a second before he can state the obvious. “Gee's right there.”

It’s not that he's a prude, or whatever. He'd grab Mikey's junk with Ray in the room. Mikey is hot as hell, probably half the students at school whack off to him. Or Gerard's junk with Ray in the room, even though it hasn't been offered, because Gerard is kinda hot too. Frank's only jerked off to him a few times, other girls and guys and celebrities have way higher numbers. It’s not some bullshit Degrassi unrequited crush, not with either of them. It’s just no one could deny that they're hot bitches, at least not anyone that’s not asexual or fucking _blind_. 

But grab Mikey with Gerard in the room? There's a difference between Frank having a himself and Fred Weasley and George Weasley threesome jerk off fantasy, and actually thinking that two brothers would be okay with it. He’s slightly kinky, not delusional. It's totally possible Mikey has legitly forgotten Gerard is in the room. They're all drunk, and Gerard is being one of those sloshy quiet drunks, and Mikey's kinda spacey to begin with. A quick reminder and Mikey will know how stupid what he’s said is, or at least he’ll suggest they go to his room.

Just as he thinks it’ll be a dropped conversation lost to alcoholic haziness, Gerard snorts. “I've seen Mikey's dick before. I've seen guys _on_ Mikey's dick before. Go for it!”

Frank suddenly grateful he’s sitting on the floor. If he was sitting on the couch he totally would have fallen off, because _what the fuck even_? Seeing Mikey’s dick, yeah fine. They share a bedroom. The Ieros don't have a locked bathroom door policy, it's totally possible the Ways have the same, though Frank can't imagine asking if Gerard's ever walked past his dad showering to verify. It's one of those things that really don't get talked about. But seeing someone _on_ it?

He doesn't mean for it to tumble out. The instant he speaks his brain blames it on the alcohol, a big neon arrow of pointing and blaming. But completely without permission out of his mouth comes “was it an accident?”

He doesn't even know why he’s asking. Of course it was an accident. Gerard was probably being a sloshy drunk in his bed and Mikey came in at 4am all fucked up on something sold as MDMA, but who really knows, with some pretty boy in neon. Gerard was too drunk to say stop, and Mikey was too high to look three feet to the left. All the factors in the equation have happened multiple times; the drunkeness and the buying random shit from shady college freshmen and the Mikey being a slut. It all easily adds up to the answer of totally an accident.

Except then Gerard says “not really.”

The world is doing some crazy Alice in Wonderland shit, because Frank is totally falling, even though he's already sitting down. He tries to ask a question and ends up making a noise like a beached dying whale. Coupled with being collapsed on the carpet, it's probably pretty dramatic. But he doesn't have brainspace to worry about it, because _Gerard and Mikey not really accidentally participated in sex in the same room_. It's a one hundred percent brain capacity concept.

Mikey just looks at him for a second, all fucking dead-face. It's bad enough sober but when he's drunk or getting there he's like got fucking drywall for a face. “Do you want my inhaler?”

Frank would laugh, if one percent would flip over to helping him talk again. Mikey doesn't have fuckin’ asthma. He got it temporarily when he was a freshman and had a really bad cold, and he carries an inhaler around and pretends to take hoots during laps in gym class so he doesn't have to complete them. The container's from like 2006, the gas could probably kill him if he inhaled it.

Finally he can talk, and he asks what he has to. Vague statements are no one’s friends. “What does not really accidentally mean?”

Gerard answers “Live porn is hotter than downloaded. Also that one time it crashed the entire system.”

Mikey rolls his eyes. “You were using Internet Explorer. You deserved it."

Frank is going to die. To hell with IE, his brain is going to crash. But before he does, he just needs to be really clear. “Mikey fucks guys in front of you so you can get off?”

The way he's laying, Frank can't see Gerard. He _can_ hear his shoulders scrape against the carpet as he shrugs. “Sometimes he fucks girls. And one time a girl fucked him. She had her own equipment and everything.”

“So as you can see Frank, there's no reason to not touch my dick.”

Christ. Frank almost forgot that was the whole point of this conversation. And now that he’s given himself a minute to get over his heart palpitations, it sounds pretty damn good to him. He stands and throws off his clothes in a rush so he can sit down again, this time closer to Mikey. His head is swimming but he’s not going to puke and Mikey’s thigh is warm so everything is okay.

“You two aren’t getting naked?” It’s a disappointment, really. It’s okay if they don’t touch each other, but they should at least not be wearing clothes.

“I’ll take off my jeans, I guess.”

“You take off what you want,” is Mikey’s response. Frank wants to take everything off. But he should probably go a piece at a time. Savour the nakedness. He’s never been the kind of annoying bastard that actually peels off each piece of tape patiently at Christmas, but sex with your best friend while your other best friend watches isn’t Christmas. Frank would love if there was a best friend sex holiday, but there isn’t.

The belt buckle nearly takes Gerard’s eye out when Frank tosses it towards the couch, but hearing no complaint he keeps going. He unzips Mikey’s jeans and smacks his thigh to make him raise his hips. It’s still not easy to get the denim off. Mikey has this habit of buying pants a size too small. Half the student body appreciates it, but it does make taking them off difficult. They’ve practically fused to him.

His boxer briefs are green and white. They match his shirt, which is almost enough to make Frank giggle. A wrinkled worn ten days in a row kelly green Hollister shirt isn’t exactly a camisole, and it’s not like Mikey did it on purpose, but Frank can’t help but think of matching lingerie. To distract himself he cups a hand over Mikey’s dick. It’s lumpier than feeling a girl over her underwear, but the more he rolls his fingers the more there’s a wet spot, which is the same. 

“I’m gonna jerk you off. If you want.” It occurs to Frank that asking isn’t good dirty talk, so he tries again. “Gonna curl every finger around your cock. Gonna jerk you so good you’re gonna cry. Gonna jerk you so good Gerard feels it. That’s what you want, right? To make Gerard come because someone is touching you?”

Mikey doesn’t have much of a reaction. A slight upthrust of hips, maybe. But Gerard fucking moans, voice low and burnt with alcohol. The sound hits Frank hard, and the only thing he can do is grab Mikey by the leg and pull him closer. He’s got one leg straight in the air, one over his thigh, groins close enough that if they were girls they’d be scissoring, and Gerard’s hand is in his bright red underwear. It’s really fucking good. 

He could pull the fabric down, go directly for Mikey’s cock. It’s more fun to play with the hem resting tight against Mikey’s right leg. The fabric stretches, it must be spandex. Frank pushes his hand in, soft pale skin against his knuckles, slick cloth against his palm. Turning his hand makes the briefs twist like a fabric handcuff, not that Frank wants to escape. This is better. Being able to tuck his fingers between Mikey’s cheeks and touch his asshole is better. 

Frank sucks in his cheeks and moves his tongue for a few seconds, until he has a build up of saliva. He yanks his hand back and spits, aiming for and getting mainly his fingertips. For the first time he moves the hand cupping dick, to stretch the boxer briefs far from Mikey’s thigh. He doesn’t want the fabric to wick away the wetness before it’s where it needs to be.

And finally Mikey is reacting. Frank is rubbing two slick fingers over his asshole, impressively dexterously considering it’s his left hand, and Mikey is thrashing on the linty grey carpet. It’s a fucking great sight, and evidently Gerard thinks so too. He moans again, this time more drawn out, and when Frank glances over -he can’t not- his free hand is bunched into a fist, the grey checkerboard quilt clenched in his grasp. 

Frank pushes, and a finger enters Mikey to the first knuckle and he breaks. “Oh, god.” And then Gerard breaks, a moan long enough that Frank wonders if he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen before he slumps against the rolled up blanket and his sticky hand falls free of his underwear. Frank wants to grab his hand and suck the come off, but even drunk he can see that might cross a line -after all, Gerard never said he could touch him, only Mikey- so he doesn’t. Instead he abandons Mikey’s cock to stick a few of his own fingers in his mouth. When a girl wets through her panties it’s normally salty-sweet, like puffed popcorn. Frank doesn’t get that from Mikey. But there’s enough for a hint, and he turns his hips so he can rub against the inside of Mikey’s thigh. 

He’s close to coming, so fucking close. He wants Mikey to be close too. He crooks his finger deeper into Mikey, past the second knuckle. Mikey arches up and tenses and Gerard hitches his breath and Mikey is coming and Frank has to, he just _has to_. He bites down, teeth embedding themselves in his hand, and orgasms.

They collapse in a row; Frank beside Mikey beside Gerard. It takes Gerard about three seconds to start snoring the deafening snores of the drunk. His hand is palm up on the carpet, still covered in his own ejaculate. Frank considers grabbing a roll of TP from the bathroom but in the end decides against it. If he cleans up Gee then he’ll have to find Mikey underwear and get a damp cloth for cleaning up his own spunk after he finds the streaks of it on the carpet. It’s much easier to just grab a blanket from the couch and pull it down onto his face, then wriggle and shrug and kick until it covers all of him. He can be a good guest in the morning, right now he needs to pass out.

“I guess you can cross a threesome off your bucket list,” Mikey comments just as Frank is sure everyone is sleeping.

“Fuck off, I’m not gonna die.” There’s no confidence behind the rebuttal. He could, after all.

“Of course you won’t. We’ll hang out in the waiting room if you want though.”

“You would?”

“Of course.”

“Cool then.” Not that either of them will pray for his survival, Gerard’s actually pretty anti-Catholicism. But it makes him feel better anyway.

“Goodnight Frankie.”

“Night Mikey.”


End file.
